


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by naasad



Series: Ferrejolvaire [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Autistic Enjolras, Demiromantic Enjolras, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Other, Pining, Polyamory, greyromantic jehan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: Enjolras decides he wants a 'practice datemate' and Combeferre is determined not to let his feelings get in the way of whatever comes next.





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about not being around as much lately, there was another death in the family.
> 
> Anyway, this was sort of me exploring my own romantic orientation. I've been like "am I poly or aro? i think i'm most likely poly" forever now, but then I was writing this and I swear there was an angelic choir and a light descending from heaven and I was like "oh, i'm demiromantic and poly". Anyway, yeah. Hope you enjoy! Leave a comment at the end, if you would be kind.

“I’ve never dated before,” Enjolras mused as he and Combeferre did their homework one night. “Not unless you count Courfeyrac.”

Combeferre chuckled. “Courfeyrac was dating you, you weren’t dating Courfeyrac, trust me.”

“That’s what he said, too.” Enjolras bit his lip and stared at the wall for a minute. “I want to date.”

Combeferre dropped his pencil and cursed, banging his head on the coffee table as he bent down to get it.

“Are you okay?” Enjolras asked.

“I’m fine.” Ferre rubbed at the bump on his forehead. “What brought this on?”

Enjolras shrugged. “It seems like a quintessential part of the human experience.”

“Well,” Combeferre said slowly, “it is for some humans. Did you have anyone in mind?”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t want it to be romantic, not right off the bat. Just… just practice dating.” He perked up, eyes alight with a Plan. “Jehan is aromantic, I think. Would it be rude to ask them?”

Combeferre blinked in shock. “I’m going to have to go with yes.” He ignored the way his heart clenched at the thought of Enjolras and Jehan… together… at every meeting.

“Damn,” Enjolras cursed, cracking his knuckles.

“I’m pretty sure it would be rude to ask anyone to be your ‘practice date’, Enjolras.”

“I know,” Enjolras muttered. “But how am I going to get the experience without the risk?”

Combeferre snorted. “The risk is part of life, Enjolras. It’s just the way it works.”

“Fuck the way it works.” Enjolras turned back to his schoolwork, scowling. “I’ll figure something out.”

It wasn’t until the next Les Amis meeting that Combeferre found out what ‘something’ was.

“Well, actually, I’m grey-romantic,” Jehan said from the back corner, “which might make me better qualified for something like that because I do know what it feels like. I don’t know, I’ve never done it before, though. Sounds fun. Would have to have some pretty firm boundaries.”

Combeferre smacked his face into his palm.

“Everything okay?” Courfeyrac asked.

Combeferre whimpered, just in time to hear Enjolras’ response.

“Would you be willing to help me with that? I’ve never really dated, and the media is crap.”

“Sure!” Jehan replied. “Let me just draw up a list of hard noes and things we can negotiate and such. You should do the same.”

Courfeyrac frowned. “Did Enjolras just ask Jehan out?”

Combeferre nodded miserably. “As his practice datemate.”

Courfeyrac reached over and patted his shoulder. “That’s rough, buddy.”

Combeferre looked up and glared.

“So,” Enjolras said as they walked back, “I didn’t ask them first. First, I asked them if they’d ever been asked that and when they said it sounded fun, then I asked them.”

“I heard,” Combeferre said, pained.

“Is your head still bothering you?” Enjolras asked, clearly concerned.

Combeferre gritted his teeth and nodded.

Enjolras made a sympathetic noise. “Anyway, they’re going to draw up their boundaries, and I’m going to draw up mine, and then once we’ve negotiated things to the best of our ability, we’re going to plan our first date.”

“Sounds good,” Combeferre said. “You know, my head really is killing me, maybe we could spend the rest of our walk in silence.”

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras whispered, then fell silent.

As it turned out, it didn’t take long for them to negotiate, their initial lists were nearly identical. Extremely compatible, Combeferre’s brain provided, to which he eloquently replied, ‘Shut up.’

They went for coffee first, then a movie, then a dinner, then a picnic, and then and then and then…. They were texting and calling each other constantly. Enjolras never talked about the dates or about the conversations – “It doesn’t matter, Ferre, it’s just for practice” – but he positively glowed every time.

Oh, no.

For their fifth date, they went to dinner, and then Combeferre got a text halfway through.

 **[Enjolras]:** _Going to Jehan’s afterward. We’re going to have sex._

 **[Ferre]:** _Have fun! Use protection! :D_

Combeferre threw his phone across the room.

“You just need to get over him,” Courfeyrac said. “Come on, let’s go to a bar. You can pick up a nice girl or guy or non-binary dude for the night and just get Enjolras out of your system.”

Combeferre woke up the next morning with no memories and no evidence of having had sex, just a particularly nasty hangover. Luckily, Courfeyrac had had his phone all night, so he didn’t have to worry about any incriminating texts sent in a drunken haze, he could continue pining in the face of Enjolras’ obliviousness.

“You love him.” Jehan came over for lunch, curled up on one end of the couch.

Combeferre laughed.

Jehan hugged him.

“There are my two favorite people,” Enjolras said, beaming as he walked out from the bedroom.

Somehow, that hurt even more.

A week later, Enjolras came home from a date looking devastated. “Jehan broke up with me.”

“Practice break-up?” Combeferre asked.

Enjolras shook his head and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “What are you watching?”

Combeferre scooted over and held out his arm. “Planet Earth.”

Enjolras curled up against Combeferre’s side, wrapping them both in a blanket. “Jehan said there was someone who loved me and that I was ready now.” He ducked his head. “It wasn’t real. Why does it hurt?”

Combeferre pressed a kiss to the top of his head and turned his attention back to the tv, unsure whether to thank Jehan or punch them.

He landed solidly on ‘thank’ when Enjolras came to him a few weeks later. “Are you the one who loves me? There’s not really anyone else I can fathom.”

“Yes,” Combeferre said, not in the habit of lying to his friends. (Just really, really good at hiding.)

Enjolras leaned down and kissed him. “Will you go out with me?”

They went on three dates before Combeferre realized something was wrong.

“You still love Jehan,” he said when they laid together in bed.

Enjolras buried his face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Combeferre said, thinking hard. “It hasn’t been that long, and I – I might love them a little, too.”

They decided he would be the one to talk to Jehan, and he decided to be direct.

“Enjolras is demiromantic,” he said, sitting between a cactus and a hopefully fake human skull. “He needs a close personal bond with someone before he starts to have romantic feelings.”

“I know,” Jehan said. “I identified as demi for a long time before I figured out I was grey. But Enjolras has a close personal bond with you.”

“Yes,” Combeferre said, “and he has one with you now, too. I don’t think he had romantic feelings for you when you started ‘practice dating’ but I know he has them, now.”

“I’m sorry,” Jehan said, defensive. “That must make things rough, but Enjolras’ feelings are his own responsibility.”

“I’m not saying they’re not,” Combeferre said quietly. “I have feelings for you, too.”

Jehan dropped their teacup and knelt down to pick up the shards. “Why isn’t Enjolras here?”

“He has less tact.”

Jehan laughed and gestured to the broken ceramic. “True.”

“Look,” Combeferre said as he grabbed a dish towel, “if you don’t want to be with us, that’s fine. We understand, and we understand you might not feel the same way - ʺ

“I do,” Jehan murmured. They looked up and smiled. “I do.”

Combeferre smiled. “Then what do you say?”

Jehan sighed and mopped up the tea. “The three of us together? I think it’s worth a shot.”

As they both stood, Combeferre smiled. “May I kiss you?”

Jehan leaned forward and pressed their lips to his, firm and desperate.

When they pulled away, Combeferre grinned and tucked a loose strand of hair behind their ear. Somehow, that felt more intimate than the kiss. “We should go find Enjolras.”

Jehan smiled. “We should.”


End file.
